


Neon Heart

by Imminent_Em



Series: Prelude in Five Parts [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cute, Fluff, Holidays, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:41:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22272727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imminent_Em/pseuds/Imminent_Em
Summary: Blue eyes under starlight, an echo that reverberates through the clear night air, although everything is wrong, different - she says yes, and maybe he isn't alone after all.
Series: Prelude in Five Parts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603987
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Neon Heart

An icy wind swirled around Nick as he slipped through the door to his office. _His_ office. It felt good to think those words, even if the rooms were bare and empty and cold. Nearly ten years of scraping by in this city, and he finally had a place wholly his own. No landlord sneering at the novelty synth, no mysteriously increasing rent, nothing. A place to hide from the world, if only for a few hours.

That reminder was a pleasant distraction from Nick’s mood. With the first whisperings of winter, a strange melancholy had settled over him. Even as he finally got what he’d wanted, finally gained a measure of acceptance in this damn city….he felt more along than ever.

His mood properly soured again, Nick shuffled over to the old worn couch and flopped down. Maybe it was just the holiday, and all the bitter reminders that brought. He hadn’t realised, hadn’t kept track of the date while he was out of town. The cobbled-together decorations of the fir tree in the center of town had gleamed and twinkled merrily at him, as if mocking his ignorance, his forgetfulness.

That awful, sick feeling slipped into his thoughts, the one that always went hand in hand with _his_ memories. Like pawing through the pages of someone’s intimate journal, feeling the invasion of it but unable to stop. His head had been pooling with them ever since he stepped through the gate -

 _\- an apartment lit by firelight, a decorated tree, hot cocoa with coffee, curved red lips and bright blue eyes, a ring_ \- 

Nick rolled from the couch back to his feet, a feeling rather like panic fluttering through him. Despite his exhaustion from the road, he suddenly couldn’t take another moment of sitting still. He had to do _something_.

A search of his desk drawers revealed a critical absence of cigarettes. That, at least, was something to occupy him, distract him from all the pain flooding through his memories right now. A simple errand and a perfect excuse to wander the city, to let the cold air sluice away his gloom.

Nick found himself in the market a short time later, waiting while Sydney rounded up his order. The air was crisp and clear, the market quiet and winding down for the evening. His head had settled down somewhat. It all felt a bit silly when he came out here, the panic of rifling through another man’s grief. The old Nick was long gone, and even if he was a poor replacement, the best thing he could do would be to soldier on. It was the only sensible thing, really. Reasonable. Rational. And yet - 

\- _his heart still shattered with that gunshot on a summer street, still longed for a woman he had never touched, never kissed, still raged and burned with a fire like no other to rip apart the man who had given the order_ \- 

\- yet there were just some things he couldn’t let go of, couldn’t put behind him.

Sydney eventually dragged him from his spiraling thoughts, setting a canvas pouch on the counter in front of him. “That’ll be thirty caps, Valentine.”

“Sure, sure.” He rummaged around in his baggy coat for the caps. “How’s your old man?”

She shrugged. “It’s getting harder for him to roll the product. His hands are a mess, and the Doc says it’s only going to get worse. He’s still refusing to change the way anything runs, though, stubborn ass.”

Nick shook his head. “I’d say he’ll eventually see reason, but I’m not sure that’s the case.”

Sydney cackled. “True enough. Stay warm out there, Valentine. This weather’s only getting nastier!”

He tipped his hat to her and started making his way back. He was reluctant to lock himself away again, and found himself lingering. He’d always thought of the back streets of Diamond City as unexpectedly picturesque. The inky velvet of the sky seemed to reach down to the earth to drape in the corners and recesses of the ramshackle buildings, pushed away only by the small golden pools of the streetlights. The wind wound its way through the narrow streets, pushing and tugging at his coat playfully. It was the gentle quiet of a fall night, almost, but not quite into transitioned into winter - and finally, in a narrow, dimly lit side street, for the first time since he’d stepped through the gates earlier that evening, Nick felt some of the weight fall from his shoulders. Surrounded by beauty such as this, it couldn’t be all bad.

A faint rustle broke his reverie, and Nick looked down from the distant stars to meet a pair of eyes. A small figure was crouched behind a nearby bush, frozen in the act of moving closer. Tangled hair, scratched and smudged face, filthy clothes - a sad sight, but not a terribly uncommon on. One of Diamond City’s many orphans. Or, more likely, given how unkempt the child was, a ruins rat that had snuck into the city in hopes of easier pickings.

The child didn’t move, and Nick remained where he was. Neither said anything. The child was staring at him with wide eyes, clearly taking in the yellow eyes, the synthetic skin of his hands and face. He returned the favor, curious. He’d never been able to get this close to a ruins rat before. They usually darted before he was within a hundred yards, let alone close enough to talk. The poor kid was visibly shivering in the cold, its only movement so far to wipe a running nose. Clothing was patched, shoes in an even worse state.

In an instant, Nick made up his mind. He cleared his throat softly and said, “Well, hello there.”

The kid didn’t answer. Nick bit the inside of his lip before continuing. “I can, uh, help you out if you like?” Still no response. He winced inwardly at the idiocy of what he was saying, but he couldn’t for the life of him think of anything else. “You look pretty cold sitting there.”

The child jerked its head in response, and he could’ve jumped with excitement. A nod wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. He reached out a hand invitingly. “Well then, why don’t you come with me and we-”

In a flash, the child was, darting down the street. It took but a second’s hesitation before Nick was after the kid, sprinting full out.

That second nearly cost Nick the chase - he lost sight of the kid down the first street, and turned down a nearby alley on a wild hunch. A darting shadow and a trailing scarf proved him right, and he whipped around another corner, jumping the jumbled piles of cinderblocks piled in disuse. There was a clatter of metal against stone, and he barely avoided an overturned trash bin. Another corner, and the kid was in sight again. He put on a burst of speed, reaching out, and - 

\- the kid whipped around, a .45 leveled at him. Nick stumbled to a stop, hands up and open. The barrel of the revolver shook only the tiniest bit, in time with each panting breath. Wide frightened eyes met his, and Nick tried his best calming voice. “Hey, now, kiddo. No need for the gun here.”

The kid - _she_ , Nick realized, although it was hard to tell under the grime - didn’t lower the gun. Nick tried not to move too quickly, lowering himself carefully to his knees while keeping his hands out. “See? I don’t mean any harm. Just wanted to help.”

She shook her head, as if she didn’t believe him - but the gun did lower the tiniest bit. Sensing headway, Nick cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I was just thinking how cold it is out when I saw you, and ...”

The gun lowered more as Nick trailed off, mind furiously racing for something else to say, something to get on this little urchin’s good side. With a sudden burst of inspiration, he blurted out, “You want food, kid?”

She lowered the gun and blinked in surprise.

* * *

Ten minutes late, and Nick was seated at the bar at Power Noodles, watching the tiny figure wolf down her second bowl of ramen with ravenous speed. She hadn’t spoken a word to him, just scarfed down the food like the world was ending all over again. Not hard to see why. She was skin and bones - emphasis on the bones. He cheeks were hollowed, eyes sunken, hands tiny and bloodless, and her clothes hung from her frame in a way that suggested they weren’t _just_ a size too big.

It hurt to see up close - one thing to know orphans were starving out there, another to see firsthand, to watch a child snatch for any crumb within reach. He was...lost. Everything he’d done for this city, all the years spent trying to earn a place, trying to do just the tiniest bit of good - and looking at this girl, he couldn’t help but feel like it was all for nothing. Maybe it was just his melancholy from earlier. Maybe….

Nick cleared his throat. “Hey kid.” He saw her eyes dart in his direction, but she didn’t stop slurping. He took that as an acknowledgement and continued, “Where are your parents?”

The girl finally slowed, chewing on a mouthful of noodles. After a large swallow, she said, “Dead.”

Nick nodded, trying not to look too elated that he’d gotten her to speak. “You got a name?”

She looked around nervously before answering, as if it was a crime just to speak. “Ellie,” she finally whispered, her voice low and thin as before.

“Ellie?” Nick smiled down at her. “That’s a nice name.” He waved down Taka, pointing for another bowl. “I tell you what, Ellie. I’ll get you another bowl to go, and if you want, I’ve got a safe, warm bed just waiting for you back at my office.”

He held out his hand, and she stared at it, brows furrowed in contemplation. After a moment, she hopped from the stool, and without a word, slid her hand into his. 

Maybe it wasn’t all bad, Nick thought as he glanced up at the stars, still twinkling brightly. Maybe he could still do a little good, in his own small way.

**Author's Note:**

> What? Christmas fluff? Halfway through January? The author forgot to upload it, you say? :) joking aside, welcome to the new decade! Hope you enjoyed this bit of floof that I meant to upload weeks ago. Love and hugs to all of you - third installment to DC/FT is coming soon, so I'll see you then!


End file.
